The Awakening
by TimnAlan
Summary: Continuation of the book. Clarice has been living in a dream world until she awakens to the reality she left behind.
1. The Dreamer Awakes

Discalimer: All characters recognizable from the book/movie belong to Thomas Harris and are used without consent. I own only the plot line and other characters. Don't sue, youwould be wasting your time.

The large shining kettle slipped out of the maid's hands and slid languidly across the table. It tapped into the wall picked up speed and slipped over the side; a loud crash rang out as it came into contact with the floor. About a D below middle C. The sound echoed throughout the large mansion.

Sharp blue eyes snapped open in shock as the mistress of the mansion looked around her in a dazed and confused manner. Unbeknownst to the servant in the kitchen the sleeper had awakened from her peaceful dreams and the idyllic existence of the past had come to a screeching halt.

Sonador Aletta, formally Special Agent Clarice Starling, currently the "wife" of Dr. Chavez Aletta attempted to calm her racing heart. The pen she was holding slipped through her shaking and suddenly weak fingers to the floor. A sudden flood of memories raced into her pounding head as she struggled to make sense of the sudden torrent. With a thud she fell to floor and she remembered she was locked in a house in Chesapeake with Dr. Lecter. Her hand went for her gun only to discover it was not there. In shock she looked down to find herself in a dress that was not hers. Also this was not Chesapeake it was too warm and dry...

Shakily Clarice rose to unsteady feet prepared to make a run for it when a tap came softly at the door. Terrified she remained paralyzed indecision to run, hide, of scream for help.

"Are you all right Sonador?" A cold metallic voice whispered silkily through the door.

"I'm fine..." Clarice replied her voice more steady than she had dared hope it would be.

Until she realized she had replied in English to his Spanish. Fortunately, for Clarice, Lecter's instincts had softened with time and lack of danger. He suspected nothing.

"We leave for the opera in three hours. Perhaps it is time to get ready...hmmm?"

"Umm... Yes it is. Isn't?"

Clarice collapsed against the wall as she heard his footsteps tap softly down the hall and a door open and the footsteps fade away. A wave of nausea and terror tore at her as she swiftly shifted through drawers trying to figure out just where the hell she was. Her eyes landed on a calendar and grew wide. March 2002. More than five years had passed from the last time she could remember. A small map in one of the drawers answered one of her questions Buenos Aires, Argentina. _What am I doing in South America with number three on the FBI's most wanted list? Is he still number three? Never mind where's my gun. _Another memory flashed into her mind. _A sharp pain shot through her shoulder, and she fired towards the dark rafters as she fell and the gun lay on the floor of Mason Verger's barn. Strong arms lifted and carried her amid the loud squeals of pigs into the night. _

Clarice bolted upright and lit for the door only for it to open as she reached out to turn the knob. Maroon eyes watched her as she slid to a halt. A hand reached out to her shoulder as she, unable to stop the forward inertia, stumbled forward.

"Already your balance is off Sonador?" He chuckled. " Come we must get ready."

Clarice managed to keep from flinching as he placed his hand at the small of her back and lead her swiftly out of the library and up the stairs. Ironically Clarice was glad he was guiding her; if she had wandered around the house it would have aroused suspicion. It was almost safer letting him be so close to her, almost. They arrived at door, which Dr. Lecter opened and gestured for her to enter before him. Slowly she walked through the door and warily let her eyes wander over the room until she realized they shared the room. _No. I can't be sleeping with him. _

"Clarice," Lecter said softly behind the sound proof doors, "what is bothering so much today?"

"Nothing..." She froze unsure what to call him. _He couldn't possibly still go by Hannibal Lecter, even down here he is a legend. _She took a wild risk, "Hannibal."

"If you are sure. Perhaps you would like to wear the teal dress tonight. Just a suggestion, only if you want to." Hannibal whispered in a hypnotic voice. Clarice felt herself slipping into the velvet richness of the voice, but she gamely forced her mind to fight off the influence.

Swiftly he strode to the dresser and pulled out a shimmering teal silk dress. He laid it gently on the large bed and turned to pull out a simple, but well-tailored suit. His lithe body moved to the chest of drawers and pulled out a pair of ties and closely scrutinized them before selecting one.

Dumbly Clarice began to remove her clothes, but stopped when she noticed Lecter's eyes watching her and a smile on his face that sent shivers down her spine.

"Clarice, if you start that we will not arrive at the opera in time. And that would be very rude." He was now just inches from her and whispered in her ear, " Besides it is _Orfeo_, your favorite."

Clarice followed Lecter's gaze and saw the bathroom off to the side and picked up her clothes and moved towards it. She slipped inside and breathed a sigh of relief as she turned and locked the door behind her. Quickly she began to search the cabinets for guns, knives, and scissors, hell even a toothpick would make her better armed than she currently was. Fumbling through the medicine cabinet her hand grazed something and knocked it off into the sink. _What has he been giving me? _Clarice wondered in horror as she stared at the small object resting in her hands.

Wow you made it! Reviews and CC are welcome. If you must flame go ahead; I need a good laugh.


	2. The Opera

Disclaimer: If you really need to see it again refer to chapter one.

A sharp rap at the door broke her spell and the object started to slip; Clarice grabbed and swiftly shoved it back into its old home. Turning to the dress she had hung up before beginning her search another memory shot through her mind, of another dress and another time. _Dr. Lecter playing the harpsichord, Krendler in a funeral tux duct taped to a chair. Eating Krendler's brain and the distinct twang of a crossbow as it entered him and shut his treacherous mouth permanently. A fire place, teacups, and Mischa. _

Awareness of her surroundings found her seated on the floor hands at temples to end the sharp thrills of pain. Once again she reached for the dress determined not to let the monster realize her intentions until it was too late to catch her. Shakily the cool silk came into her hands as she looked at it trying to figure out exactly how she was supposed to put it on. Eventually she found a zipper and slipped the material over her head and attempted to re zip the back only to discover that her hand could not reach. In vain she attempted again and again until the door opened without warning and Dr. Lecter in white tie glided effortlessly inside.

"Turn around," he said in a voice that held no patience for argument.

Silently Clarice turned around and felt his hands on the zipper. Gently he eased it up; Clarice fought the urge to stiffen under his touch and give up any chance of escape.

"At last you are ready, Sonador." He murmured into her neck then lightly nipped her drawing a thin line of blood. Clarice jumped and Lecter's hand tighten around her waist. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no, I just wasn't expecting that." She gasped as he lightly licked the drops of blood off of her neck.

Silently he handed her a pair of expensive looking heels that she knelt to put on. He offered her his arm and lead her out of the room and down the hallway and onto a circle driveway where a Mercedes Maybach waiting purring like a jungle cat about to run. He handed her into the Maybach and gently shut the door. He walked to the other side and climbed into the car. As he sat down he ran his fingers down his pant legs to straighten the crease.

He turned towards his consort and caught a look in her eyes before she managed, rather ineffectively to hide it. Fear. _She has not been afraid of me since the Chesapeake incident with Krendler. Hmmm...What is with the sudden change? She has been rather jumpy since that clumsy made dropped that kettle. The sound was unusual, about D below middle C... _Lecter's eyes sparkled as she quickly suppressed the grin. _Ah so the dreamer has finally awakened. __Where does the game turn from here? Drugging her is out of the question for the time being. Perhaps I should just wait to see what happens. If she runs I can catch her, and a new challenge would begin. _Imperceptivity Lecter's body tensed waiting for excitement and game to begin.

Clarice's hands were slick with perspiration she dared not wipe of for fear of him noticing her movement. She was also afraid not to wipe it of for fear he would scent her fear. She soaked in every detail of her surroundings looking for alleys and ditches to aid in her escape. The lights of the opera house gleamed into view and Clarice made the decision to run as soon as the car door opened; she would run before he knew what was happening.

Calmly Dr. Lecter opened his car door and came outside shutting it firmly behind him. He waved to the doorman to tell him he was not needed. He opened Clarice's door himself. He felt he prepare to jolt and dug his finger nails into her firm flesh until she gasped and tears came to her eyes. Quickly, but elegantly he pulled her into a standing position and with his arm he guided her into the building and into the box seats.

He released Clarice and locked the door behind them as he did so. Placing the key in his pocket he turned to face Clarice.

_He knows. I have to get out of here. Can I jump? No it's at least thirty feet up here; the fall would kill me. _In a panic she looked anywhere for an escape. She turned to see Dr. Lecter smirking as he leaned against the door; her only viable escape. She dashed towards it. To her surprise he stepped away as she neared. She turned the handle and slammed full force into the door making her head spin.

"That was foolish and unnecessary Clarice." He stared as he pulled her to her feet. "You are making a scene. Come, sit. We will talk when the opera is over."

Clarice did not move. Her head swam as she tried to make sense of what Lecter had said. With a sigh he grasped her arm and pulled her gently to the seat.

"Sit, Sonador. You can not do anything about your situation now. Sit and enjoy. It will be a long time before she get the chance to enjoy the theater again."

She sat stiffly and as far away from him as possible almost to the edge of the row of seats. He glared at her in a frustrated manner and pulled her into the seat right beside him. "If you keep acting up people will believe we are having an argument. We do not need to draw attention to ourselves. It would hurt my practice if people believed I could not even solve my own marriage problem. I'm not going to bite you, Clarice. At least not here."

Clarice's heart paused as she grasped the meaning of his words. Slowly she sank into the chair for what she believed would be the last time.

_No, I can still get out of here. Think, Lecter would never go somewhere without several ways to escape. If I was Lecter how would I avoid arrest..._

Once again reviews welcome along with flames, cc, death threats, and flying buffalo.


	3. Broken Needle

Disclaimer: Refer to chapter 2 where you will be told to refer to chapter 1.

A small thin rope dangled from the balcony, about ten feet from Dr. Lecter. It did not reach the ground, but it was only about eight feet too short. Clarice would drop less than three feet. Out of the side of her eyes she watched Dr. Lecter intently concentrating on the opera. Slowly Clarice raised herself from her seat and turned towards the rope holding her breath she crept behind Lecter's chair. She was shocked that a hand did not reach out and grab her; she neared the rope. She stretched her hand out to touch it, and felt her feet kicked out from under her. She fell backward into Lecter's arms. Madly she struggled against his grip.

"Let me go! You son of a bitch" She demanded, her voice muffled by his hand.

"No need to use profanities Clarice. Perhaps I need to remind you of how to act."

Clarice continued to thrash in his arms until she almost wiggled out. Calmly Lecter released her to the floor. She tried the door once again, but it held. Lecter lifted her hands above her head and her feet came off the ground. He patted his pocket and drew out a thin needle; he inserted it into her shoulder and began to push the plunger down. Clarice turned sharply as the drug took hold. The needle broke off in her shoulder. Lecter gathered her in his arms and placed the half-empty syringe in his pocket. He unlocked the door and carried Clarice out of the box.

"Dr. Aletta, what is wrong with Mrs. Aletta?" Dr. Juan Ramos inquired.

"She is fine. She just had a fainting spell, rather common with women in her condition." Lecter replied without missing a beat.

"Yes, it is. Perhaps if she is no better by tomorrow her appointment could be moved up. Just so everything could be checked out; if there is a problem it should be caught early in the pregnancy, obviously she was just a little light headed. Women are such fragile creatures."

"Of course, Doctor, I will call you tomorrow if she is no better." Lecter made a mental note to find a new ob-gyn. This one was far too inept and gullible to be trusted with delivering a child.

_Hannibal holding her tightly in his arms carrying her. Dancing on the balcony of the mansion. Being caught when she tripped and almost feel down the stairs. Her father holds her as a child. Warmth, safety, and comfort for another human being. _Clarice snuggled against the body holding her and smiled as she slipped over the cliff into the dreamless and silent sleep.

In the Mercedes Lecter checked her pulse and laid a hand against her forehead checking for a fever. Everything was normal; he settled back slightly in his chair as he watched her unworried sleeping face; she did not her the screaming of the lambs. Her dreams had been silent since coming with him. _Which one would work best?_ He sorted through the small case of hypnotic drugs he kept in the Maybach. Selecting one he turned it over and quickly read the label. Frowning he replaced is and checked the labels of the rest. All contained the same warning. _I cannot use any of them, besides she was going to wake up eventually. The drugs will only be effective a time or two more, and then they will cease erasing her memory. _He tapped his fingers against a clear vial. Decision made he searched for a needle as Clarice moved closer to him in her sleep. Regretfully, he watched her them replaced the needle and closed the case. Softly he stroked her platinum hair.

The Mercedes purred to a stop and the doorman quietly opened the door. Lecter came out and gently picked Clarice up and carried her into the house. He debated leaving her in the extra bedroom, but decided against it. He carried her into their bedroom and searched through the draws for Clarice's handcuffs, standard FBI issue. He found some silk clothes and carefully wrapped the handcuffs before threading them through the headboard and clicking them closed on Clarice's wrists.

He glided to the cabinet and pulled out a first aid kit and various surgical instruments. He filled a shallow pan with warm water and returned to Clarice. Gently he found the entrance wound of the needle. He washed the area thoroughly then sliced through a quarter inch of flesh until her found the missing needle. Using tweezers he plucked it out and held it up to make sure he had all of it. Finally contented that all the metal was removed her stitched up the wound and applied a bandage.

Lecter then pulled a room across the floor to the bedside and dimmed the lights. The only light left in the room was the maroon of Lecter's eyes as he waited for the next part of the game to begin.

Yes, the chapter is a little shorter than the others are, but it has a nice break in the action. Reviews, CC, flames, or about anything other than serious death threats are welcome.


	4. A Trip Down Memory Lane

Disclaimer: (Insert witty comment here or just scroll down.)

Thank you to for the reviews for the prior chapters. They make writing a lot easier knowing people are actually reading it and least somewhat liking it.

Clarice stirred slightly on the wide bed. The covers rustled lightly as her body adjusted itself attempting to find a comfortable position. She rolled as far as the handcuffs would allow, but rested on her damaged shoulder. The sharp stab of pain jolted Clarice out of her peaceful dreamland and into the home of a serial killer.

Dr. Lecter crossed his legs when he saw Clarice beginning to stir. She had been asleep longer than expected. The light on dawn was creeping through the open windows. He watched her eyes move behind closed lids, then open squinting against the bright sun. Peacefully she stretched, but then felt the hand cuffs on her arms. She sat bolt upright, but the handcuffs stopped her. Lecter calmly pushed her back down on the bed and regained his seat.

"Do you feel better, Clarice?"

"Quid pro quo, doctor. Why am I here?"

"Because you had to be sedated after the scene at the opera. Now please answer my question."

"My shoulder hurts like some stabbed me with a red-hot poker. How did it get hurt?"

"When I injected you; you choose to thrash about and the needle broke of into your shoulder. If I untie you will you run? Do not lie to me Clarice."

"Yes, but you already knew that. Are you going to kill me?"

"You have lived with me for almost five years, if I was going to kill you I would have already. Do you not think so?"

"Perhaps you wished to keep me fresh. Or did you hope to play with your food for a while, doctor?" Clarice snapped spitefully.

"A freezer would have worked nearly as well as keeping you alive so long. As for playing with you, perhaps that was my intention, but not the way you mean. Now, Clarice, how long have you been aware of who I am."

"Since yesterday, I heard a noise and suddenly remembered who I was and who you were. You still did not answer my first question. Why am I in Argentina with you?"

Dr. Lecter watched her hoping that she remembered at least something of their relationship, but her eyes were questioning his with wary blankness. "You chose to come with me. After the dinner party with Mr. Krendler you and I had a lovely...discussion and you chose to come."

"You drugged me. I didn't choose to come with you willingly, you..." Clarice barley managed to keep her voice below a scream. Lecter placed his hand over her mouth silencing her, his eyes blazing with rage. Clarice tried to wiggle as far away from him as possible, but the handcuffs held her in place.

"Clarice, you will keep your voice at a conversation level. Yes, I drugged you, but all the drug did was strip away all the years of other peoples' influence and cause you to act the way you wanted to."

"Yes, of course. Sleeping with a cannibal has always been a fantasy of mine. It ranks right up there with eating Krendler's brain."

"You are glad he is dead after the way he treated you."

Clarice opened her mouth to protest, but found under Lecter's scathing gaze she could not bring herself to lie. "Are you going to let my hands free? These handcuffs are rather uncomfortable."

"If I let you go you will attempt to leave? Then I would have to search for you. It would be inconvenient for me to miss work, and it would be rude of you to leave so quickly. You can stay here a while and think about the past. Try to remember some things. I'll see you in a little while."

"Where are you going?"

"To work, my patients need my caring help to get over their emotional tribulations."

"Your patients or your meals?"

"Tread carefully, Clarice, you too have eaten of human flesh, and if my memory serves me correctly you rather enjoyed it." Lecter paused to look at Claire's confused face.

Clarice turned a ghastly shade of gray. Lecter took a long sip of her anguish; it had been a long time since he had been able to enjoy her pain. With regret he chose not to continue the fun. "Ta Ta, Clarice. I shall be home around six. Perhaps in my absence you should try to read a little." Lecter picked a small leather-bound volume off the bookshelf and weighed it carefully in his hands. With relish he carried it over to the bed and placed it in Clarice's hands.

"Dr. Lecter I can't read Italian."

"Yes, you can. If you try, Clarice. You must simply search the halls of your memory palace to remember how. Good-bye." Lecter exited the room leaving a disgruntled Clarice in his wake.

Clarice turned the volume in her hands, which she had to stretch to their limits to be able to see the book. The title meant little to her, but the name rang a bell, Niccolo Machiavelli, obviously it was Italian, but the language of the book had already told her that._ Why would Lecter give me a book by an Italian author to read? What is a memory palace? Where would I find the memory palace? _Clarice felt her body slipping into a comfortable place.

Clarice's memory palace was not the cold marble and granite of Lecter's. Hers was not so much a building as a small ranch area. Blades of grass crinkled under her feet. Hannah grazed nearby. Hesitantly Clarice walked towards the horse. Hannah galloped over to her, nuzzling her hair. Clarice laughed as she patted the horse's mane. Reluctantly Clarice left the pasture and headed towards the large rambling house and the barn that was connected to it.

Clarice tried the barn first. She pushed the heavy doors inside and slipped into the barn. Little of interest was there except a large mule with Krendler's face. Clarice looked at the papers around the mule and found little more than memories of old exploits with the FBI. Before she left the barn she slapped Krendler's face, hard. He brayed loudly, "You're to old to be fu..." Clarice silenced him by driving a pitchfork down his throat. She smiled in the silence. She left the barn when the dripping of blood ceased.

Ten miles away Lecter smiled as he watched Clarice in their shared room. Silently he applauded Clarice's reaction to Krendler and the FBI mementoes. _Perhaps she will choose to stay willingly after all, but not yet the fight has barely begun. It would be a shame to see it end so soon_.

Clarice entered the house and turned to the left, as luck would have it the first door on the left lead to the library. She walked inside and sat in the plush chair by the fireplace. _Hannibal...Dr. Lecter has been in here. _She caught a faint hint of cologne in the still air. A quick search of the bookshelf yielded the book she had subconsciously known was there. A brief glance and her use of Italian came back to her. She looked at a few other books stored in the section Spanish, French, and Latin. Cursory glances unlocked the suppressed knowledge.

Exiting the library of the "palace" returned her to the hallway. Moving as gracefully as a lioness on the hunt she opened the next door. Jack Crawford sat at the desk. He was hunched over and gray as Clarice remembered him in his final years. She said nothing and moved onto more important memories. Other doors revealed her childhood, but try as she might no escape plans, other identities of Lecter, or any memories of the last years could be found. A knock she knew came from the outside snapped her out of her palace and back into the room.

Clarice forced her eyes open. _Why is the sun still rising? No that's right; it's setting. How long had I been in there? Lecter should be back by now if the sun hasn't altered its path in the last five years._

"Hello, Clarice." A familiar voice whispered into her ear. "I trust you found some answers while I was gone. Perhaps you could explain your treatment of Krendler to me. After all he did as all asses do, bray rather rudely."

"How did you know about that? You can read minds?"

"No. That _incident _occurred in one of our shared rooms. We, of course, share some other rooms as well."

"The library. You were in there before me."

"Yes," Lecter looked delighted that Clarice had caught him, "however, my library is larger than yours is. You still need to add books. Tomorrow you start with that one." He nodded towards the book in her hands.

_If I'm still here tomorrow. _A glance at the book and she read the title. _The Prince. Why would I read this book?_

"Don't worry Clarice. You will have plenty of time to read that book and many more."

"Do you plan on keeping me tied down forever, Dr. Lecter? Or just until the freezer runs low." Clarice knew she was playing with fire and was starting to get burned.

"Clarice, Clarice in Baltimore you didn't used to be so rude. You were simply a well-dressed hustling little rube, but now you insist on insulting me."

"Angry I'm taking your job, Doctor?"

"No, I am just wondering when you will see fit to listen to reason and stop attempting to bait me. Or do you wish to die Clarice? Would that be a better fate than staying here with me?" Lecter pulled out his Harpy and held it to Clarice's neck. Quickly he moved it across her neck and spilt the pale skin. A thin line of blood ran down her throat. "Answer, Clarice, and do not lie." He moved the Harpy over her jugular and waited for her answer.

Cliffhanger! An apology in advance updates will come slower after this be patient, the story has barely begun and future chapters promise to be longer.

Complaints, comments, world domination plots, cheerful songs, or reviews to leave? Click the little box at the bottom. Any feedback is welcome and might encourage the story to be written in a more timely fashion. Ta Ta for now.

Alan


	5. Turning the Key

Disclaimer: Everything but the plot belongs to Thomas Harris and so on and so forth.

Clarice stared into Lecter's eyes the endless black depths drew her in. The knife pressed painfully against the paper thin skin of her neck; she dared not breath for fear the small movement would cut her.

"I...I have no answer," Clarice whispered painfully as she waited for the quick death.

"Surely you have some preference in your fate," Lecter's voice was mocking and cold.

"Do my preferences matter to you, Doctor. You will do what you desire to anyway."

"Since you are unable to answer; I am going to make the decision for you. I said before the world is a more interesting place with you in it, but this little quirk of the last few days simply can not continue. Don't look so worried, Clarice, I'm not going to kill you, at the moment. Instead let us return to our old bargaining system. Quid pro quo I give you your life. You will in return give into my ...requests."

"Depending on what they are, Doctor."

"You are hardly in a position to bargain. Perhaps in your family women bargain on their backs, but that it not the kind of deal I had in mind, or at least not for the time being. Besides I thought that prostitution was below you, but perhaps I was mistaken," He felt her anger at his statement and stored it away making a few plans for later. "I have a few simple suggestions to improve your behavior."

"And... they would be?"

"Patience. First you will cease trying to leave without my permission. Chasing you down would become very tedious. You will not attempt to harm me, or try to drag me to the nearest authorities for capture. If you try to beg someone else for help you will break our little deal. If you try to lock me up somewhere or perhaps handcuff me to a bed that would make me very angry. Finally you will do your best to be the devoted wife in public. You should visit your memory palace to brush up on the details of etiquette, and while in our home you will not make the servants suspicious in any way."

"And in return for this I get to live a long life chained to the bed...yippee. I don't think that is a fair exchange," Clarice couldn't keep the sarcasm from dripping into her voice.

"I know you too well for that," Lecter settled himself on the side of the bed and languidly stroked her hair. "Your fate doesn't bother you enough to keep you on your best behavior, but the plight of others does. So if you decide to go back on the deal I made with you I might decide to remove a few people from the world. I was on hiatus, but I would rather enjoy trying out some new recipes. Wouldn't that be fun Clarice? I bet the lambs would scream during your waking hours if your actions lead to the deaths of dozens of innocent people. I will release you once you agree, or course. Are you going to uphold your end of the bargain?"

"Yes, Doctor," Clarice's voice was steady, but her face had a rather ghastly sheen to it.

"Calling me Doctor would alter the servants, Sonador," Lecter said with calmly opening and shutting the Harpy with fluid movements. His maroon eyes reflected in the polished metal. "Perhaps you could think of a better way to address me? Do try, Sonador."

"Yes, Chavez."

"Good girl," he flipped the knife shut, and returned it to his pocket and removed a handcuff key.

"I'm going to release you now. You are free to look around the house and grounds, but you cannot leave for the time being. I would consider it rude, and you would be breaking our bargain," he expertly turned the key and the first handcuff clicked open soon followed by its mate. Clarice sat up and slowly rubbed her hands until circulation painfully returned.

"Feel free to take a bath, towels are in the third cabinet to the right. You should be able to find some more suitable clothing for dinner tonight. Our guests will be here in about two hours. Be ready and in the parlor in...oh an hour and a half," Despite the phrasing Clarice could tell it was an order rather than the suggestion it appeared to be on the surface."

Clarice climbed out of the vast bed and landed on slightly on steady feet. As she pitched forward Lecter easily caught her and picked her up. "Are you alright, Sonador?" Lecter inquired with what Clarice thought looked amazingly like true concern showing on his face. Instinctively Clarice stiffened in his arms, and feeling it he sat her down gently, but retained a hand on her should.

"I'm fine. I was just a little dizzy after lying down so long."

"Of course. I shall be in the study if you need me," Lecter exited gracefully leaving Clarice alone. _Perhaps I slightly over stepped my boundaries. I don't want her handing me over to the authorities, but a little bit of a fight is a good thing once in a while. Should I try to remedy the situation? No, it would be best to see how it plays out before making in hasty adjustments._

Clarice ran the bath as she shifted through the large stock of bath oils, scents, and lotions. She chose the scents she wanted carefully and filled the tub with steaming water. She washed away the last two reviling in the feeling of washing away more than dirt. Her hands came to her stomach and she was surprised to see the slight rounding of it.A thought tugged at her mind, but she quickly swept it aside as she cleaned her wound and gritted her teeth.

When she came out of the bathroom she was not shocked to see an elegant green dress hung near the bed. Shoes were in a box directly below it. _You took it upon yourself to improve my shoes, Doctor. Has my station also improved in your eyes?_

Hannibal Lecter sat in a straight backed chair staring at the pages of Dante's _Inferno_, but he hadn't turned a page since picking it up. He sat waiting for a sign that Clarice was wandering about the house. His ears listened for the sound of her shoes against the polished marble floors. A grin turned the corners of his mouth as he waited for her to pass by before exiting and following her.

Clarice found the house to be large and elegantly decorated. She stood quietly quietly contemplating a painting by Anne Shingleton depicting the Leda and the Swan. _How appropriate for the situation the beast tempting the mortal woman. _She turned and left the room and continued her rounds of house, but her explorations were cut short by bumping into Lecter who had been patiently waiting around the corner for her.

"What are you doing here?" Clarice reflexively gasped as she stepped back from him. She could still feel the places where their bodies had meet.

"I see you are. Let us precede to the parlor," Lecter offered his arm. Clarice ignored it and started forward, but he didn't move and kept his gaze fixed on her. Clarice placed her hand on his arm and he finally started forward. Until they came to a mirror and Lecter turned them to face it.

"We make quiet a pair don't we, Clarice. A serial killer and a AWOL FBI agent. I would still hesitate to say we are the worst this mirror has seen."

Clarice stared at the reflection. Her blond hair and fair coloring contrasted with his dark hair. They stood nearly the same height, but as to appear much taller than they actually were. Both were slender, but their frames betrayed a wiry strength. Despite herself she had to admit they looked well matched. He stood in white tie; the elegant lines seemed the melded flawlessly with his body.

She had stood with Lecter before a mirror and looked at herself, but something about her had changed. She felt it more than saw it. Her eyes burned with knowledge that had not been there before, but it was something else that was different. The difference she couldn't name raised the hairs on the back of her neck.

"We make an attractive couple don't we?" The soft breath whispering against the back of her neck brought her out of her introspective ruminations. "Two people cut from the same cloth."

"I'm not like you..." The protest seemed feeble even to her own ears. She knew he was putting into words the difference that scared her. The wolf had not been tamed by being around the sheepdog; she had become more like the wolf. Cold blooded and calculating she was waiting for the lamb to wander from the fold.

"You are lying to yourself and me. Distasteful, but I shall ignore it. I need to remind you of who our dinner...guests are," Lecter purposely paused gaging her reaction to his threat. She did not seemed to worried by it. _That's my girl. Let us go you and I and see if you will keep your promise._

Thanks to all the reviewers for the last chapter. I apologize it took so long to write this one, but writer's block has no cure other than patience to ride it out. Once again the next update will take awhile, but good things come to those who wait. Or if you lose patience just send some hate reviews and threaten to boil my head in water.


	6. Remebrance of Things Past

Disclaimer: I do solemnly swear to obey all copyright laws...issued in languages I can't read. So on with the story.

The drawing room was elegant and cold. Clarice shivered, but she was unsure if it was because of the chill or because Lecter stood by her watching her like a hawk. He moved to the table and poured Clarice a glass of what appeared to be orange juice; she took it but did not drink. Lecter pured himself a glass of wine.

Hannibal Lecter caught Clarice's suspicious glance at her glass."It is simply orange juice. Drink it, Sonador," he said with the air of a parent chiding a disobedient child.

"I'm not thirsty."

"Of course not. Now, do you recall who our guests shall be this evening."

"Ummm...Dr. Ramon Delgado and Mrs. Anna Delgado. Are they bringing their son this time?"

"Unfortunately, they refused to believe that we despise children and interpreted that as an open

invitation to bring Jorge."

Clarice swore to herself. She had been hoping for only two people; it would be almost impossible to keep and eye on all three of them. She racked her brain trying to remember why the thought of Jorge made her so angry. _Of course he was the demon that managed to destroy half the keys on the harpsichord and light a small fire. _She swore aloud.

"Yes it is distasteful behavior from them but you must not use vulgar language. Do you remember what charities Mrs. Delgado is enrolled in? No? Then you must simply agree with everything she says and pretend you understand. Dr. Delgado will ignore you because he does not believe women are worth any courtesy. As for their son the servants will be taking care of him. You simply must sit and the table and not make any indication that anything has changed."

"If you hate them so much why are they coming over?" Clarice immediately regretted pointing this out to the doctor.

"Because he and his wife are the very upper crust of society and shunning them would cause much unneeded gossip about us. We really must avoid the spot light. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Chavez," Clarice replied in what she hoped sounded like a submissive wife's tone.

"It you speak like that they will instantly assume I beat you. After all the little incident at the opera last night did not go unnoticed. I would hate to have to dispose of three bodies tonight, it will mostly likely rain, and I would hate to catch a cold. It would be must inconvenient."

Clarice was about to wish him a case of pneumonia if he happened to be out hiding a few uneatable body parts in a random places across the city. However, she bit he tongue and took a slow sip of her orange juice. She squirmed under the Good Doctor's gaze.

"I must warn you not to test me on this, Clarice. I never lie, and I do not intend to start now. If make any move to take away my freedom I will be forced to kill you and many one else who gets in my way."

Clarice slowly swallowed. The orange juice had suddenly taken on a very acidic taste. "Of course. I know you do not lie, Doctor. I will not try anything." _Tonight._

He awarded her with a long and piercing look. His maroon eyes bore into her soul and tried to dislodge any secrets that were hiding within. Clarice's gaze held his and she refused to look away. The moments wore on, and each refused to be the one to break. A sharp knock at the door broke the moment.

"Doctor and Mrs. your guests have arrived. I seated them in the front drawing room as you requested," the butler bowed and left the room.

"Okie dokey I suppose we should go greet our guests," he once again extended his arm and with less hesitation than before Clarice placed her hand in the crook of his elbow.

"Oh darling you look simply marvelous!" Anna Delgado rushed towards Dr. Lecter and kissed him on both cheeks in what was a less than appropriate way. Clarice bit the inside of her lip. _What does that slut think she's doing. Wait...why do I care. No I don't care; I shouldn't care I want him dead._ Even to her own mind her words sounded pathetic. _Great not only am I jealous I'm arguing with my self about whether I care or not. I could really use a bottle of Jack Daniels._

"How are you Sonador?" Anna oozed sweetly while looking at Clarice with poison in her eyes. "My husband had to attend to a patient, but he shall be here soon. You remember little Jorge of course? He has done so much that I simply must tell you about."

"Of course I remember the little..so...," Lecter shot her a warning glance and she quickly changed her sentence,"sweet darling," she finished lamely. Anna sent her a scathing glance. Clarice pictured herself ripping the woman's tongue out the shut her up.

Hannibal Lecter quickly stepped between the women and separated them. "I arranged for the maid to look after your charming son tonight. She will find plenty of ways to amuse him," he finished smoothly and smiled his most disarming grin.

"Oh, I simply could not bear to part with him. He is such a well behaved child; I know he can handle himself at the table better than most children twice his age. He is simply so advanced."

_So advanced on his way to becoming a juvenile delinquent. That kid is going to have a major Oedipus syndrome the way she spoils him. No wonder her husbands stays the hell away from her. _Clarice grinned at the idea of Dr. Ramon hiding from his wife. She caught Lecter's gaze and quickly stopped smiling. He shook his head at her slightly, but he was obviously worried about Jorge running wild through the house like last time...

"Perhaps we should retire to the drawing room for drinks while we waiting for Dr. Ramon? After you ladies," He stepped aside and ushered them into the drawing room where a servant had already poured the drinks and retired.

"Oh, you truly have the must wonderful sense in decorating Dr. Aletta. All of these furnishing are exquisite and quite priceless." Jorge chose that moment to pour his grape juice on the antique Persian rug. Dr. Lecter's eyes blazed with anger, and Clarice took a step towards him hoping that if he attacked the child she could stop him, but she doubted it.

"Children are so adorable when they are experimenting with the world of physic. Just imagine my three year old son already learning about gravity!" Anna twittered quickly trying to cover up her son's behavior. "Of course you two will have to get used to messes when your little one is born. Aren't you due in about five months."

"What little one?" Clarice asked stupidly. "We don't have any kids."

At that moment Dr. Ramon Delgado breezed into the room saving Clarice from trying to reason through what Anna had said.

"Now that everyone is here perhaps we should start dinner? Hmmm... of course simply come this way." Clarice sensed Lecter was trying to cover something up or hide from something, but he grabbed her arm rather tightly and forced her out of the room.

"You need to be more careful, Sonador. Anna suspects something is not quite right. It would be a pity if I had to dig out my cranial saw; it is always such a pain to clean."

"I'm trying, but I have no idea what the hell that nymphomaniac is talking about. Cut me some freaking slack, Doctor."

"I have 'cut you plenty of slack' as you so charmingly put it for your recent behavior, but this sudden lack of social finesse is tiring and dangerous for us both. Just nod to everything she says and do not say anything or ask any questions."

Clarice gritted her teeth as she pulled her arm free from his painful grip. "I understand perfectly, Doctor, I'll be the perfect housewife and pretend I have an idea as to what is going on so as not to inconvenience you."

"Glad you and I have come to a compromise. Now you sit there." He gestured at the seat at the far end of the table. Clarice obligingly sat down and demurely folded the napkin in her lap while shooting Lecter daggers with her eyes.

"I wonder where our charming guests are currently?" Clarice question was instantly answered when a large metallic object slammed into the harpsichord. A single note sprang out into the still air. It was a D below middle C. Clarice sank onto the table and lay very still.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Clarice awoke sensing that it was very early morning. A certain chill and dampness hung in the air and smothered her lungs. She shifted uncomfortably as her mind spun processing all the memories of her life and placing them in the correct rooms.

"Welcome back, Clarice." A voice from beside her whispered into her ear.

"How long have I been asleep, Hannibal?"

"About three days. The drugs I gave you did not have quite the effect I was hoping for. The charming son of our guests destroyed a perfectly good instrument and smashed several antiques before his parents captured him and drug him screaming from our home.What do you remember now? Did memories return to you."

"Everything. Isn't ironic that several years pass without that note sounding once, but now in less than two days it was hit twice"

"Excellent," He replied ignoring her comment on that note while promising to re tune all things in the house so it would never sound again. This was becoming tedious "Do you still desire to leave now that you recall everything?"

She lay there in silence and started counting the flashes of light on the ceiling. The suppressed memories of before her time with Hannibal had brought back her sense of civic duty and her need to take in this dangerous criminal. However, her memories of their years together whispered into her brain that he was not as evil as the FBI had painted him to be.

"Ah the FBI agent still lurks within you, Clarice. A few years of happiness and peace cannot erase the memories of the security promised by those large official looking building. I fear until you make up your mind you will have to be confined to the house."

"I understand, but is it truly necessary to tell me this twice. Besides I was going to be confined to the house until the end of my pregnancy anyways."

"You remember that now. You were rather confused when Anna mentioned it the other night."

"I still dislike the idea of having a child...How confused it will be. For a father a serial killer and a cannibal, but for a mother the agent that was supposed to bring him in but instead got knocked up by him. Neither of us knows the first thing about raising a child."

"It is too late to change our minds. It is also much too late for you to crawl back to the FBI mewling to be taken back in. How would you explain your child with my DNA?"

"I would not have to return to the FBI. I could go home to my family."

"That gave you away and has had almost no contact with you since. I bet they would be so proud of the way you honored your father's memory."

"Shut up! Don't you say a damn thing about my father you lying sack of shit."

"You must learn how to control that temper. Unfortunately I have to have an emergency meeting with one of my patients. Feel free to move about the house as you wish. I have asked the servants to make sure you don't leave. Woman in your condition are not given to rational thought." He bent and kissed her forehead; she tensed under his touch. "Such coldness, Clarice, perhaps Krendler was correct in calling you a cold fish. We shall fix this problem latter."

Yes I know this chapter is kind of rough and lacks flow, but it will help move the story along. I apologize for the ridiculously long wait for the chapter. The next ones might take just as long. There are probably another 3-5 chapters left in the story, but no promises on when they will be finished. As always reviews are welcome along with notices that I need to hunt down my muse and post the next chapter. Until next time.

Alan


	7. For Whom the Bell Tolls

Disclaimer: I am only playing with them. Harris can make the money I will make the puppets sing and dance.

Author Notes: I apologize for the long wait between chapters, but alas real life got in the way and my muse hitchhiked her way across the galaxy. This is the next to last chapter.

Two weeks. It had been two weeks of teeth gnashing and silent rants against her ever-present captor. Even to herself she refused to admit that if she truly desired she could leave. The doors were unlocked and it would be easy to walk outside and scream her betrayal of Hannibal to the waiting world. A part of her could not open the door and run, but to confess a weakness to herself would be her demise so she blamed him to cleave to the last thread of self-respect she contained.

The air felt different as Clarice circled through the house slowly. Her heels clipped against the floor. She was lost in thought and in her anger as she strode around in a circle seeking something she could not name.

"Mrs. Delgado is here to see you," the soft voice of the butler nearly caused her to bound out of her skin, but she wrested back what little self-control she had left. She calmed herself and chastised her cowardice over nothing. "Would you care to see her ma'am? Doctor forbids visitors while you are in such a delicate condition but I imagine a little company would do you good."

"I'll see her in the parlor," she whispered without thought. She did not desire to see Anna, but she could not muster the words to say no and come up with a reason why. She was to exhausted in mind in body to continue a fight in vain It was easier to let someone else make decisions that she would go along with despite the consequences. At least in the aftermath nothing would be her fault, as she had nothing on her own to cause anything. She would have done nothing.

"Yes ma'am."

Clarice glided across the floor as her mind ran through the list of reasons Mrs. Delgado would be here. There were few and none of them fit the context. Anna was here secretly without Lecter knowing and that in itself raised the hairs on the back of her neck. Mrs. Delgado never seemed at ease she had the shifty eyes of a person always looking for opportunities to take control of someone's life. With a reflex born of years of training, she felt for her weapon knowing it would no be there, but she still had to check it was habit and it brought little comfort, but it brought comfort nonetheless. Carefully she pushed the door open and stepped inside the garishly lit room and blinked against the pain the light caused after the darkness of a silent, empty house.

Anna stood running her fingers over the gilded metal arms of a chair. She carefully picked up a crystal flute and examined it with and expert eye before carefully replacing it. "You have many lovely and expensive things, Sonador. You and your _husband_ must have inherited quiet a chunk of change from someone or someones…"

"Thank you. His parents left him a small fortune when they passed on many years ago." Her lie was simple, believable, and hard to disprove. For the situation it was perfect and the only perfect part of the moment that now stood still as time itself seemed to wait for what was about to occur. Clarice brushed the uneasy thought aside as Anna's next words broke her idyllic silence and let Apollyon out of his fiery prison.

"Did you think you could spend all this time here with Hannibal Lecter and no one find out? FBI agent Clarice Starling runs away with the serial killer she spent her career seeking to imprison. It is a story that headlines across the world would herald proudly. Don't you believe so, Clarice? " Delgado pronounced her name in a way that caused more shivers along her spine than Lecter ever had. His voice had always held a hint of respect as well as contempt. Delgado's held greed and her eyes darkened with the glare of a hunter about to place the coup de gras to a bruised and corned animal that was damned to die a painful death already. A hunter who would laugh as a creature screamed into the silence and sneer as it begged for mercy knowing that none would ever be offered.

"I have no idea what you are talking about Mrs. Delgado. Who are Clarice Starling and Hannibal Lecter? I do no believe I have ever heard of them."

"You try to hard to fake ignorance. Only people who have been asleep for the last ten years would not recognize the names." Clarice simply stood a weighed her options. She could tell Delgado everything and have a chance to place Lecter behind bars for the rest of his life and she could return to the life she had had. However, the face leering at her was emptier and less human than Lecter. Anna was dead already, but her body unlike her soul had not died and stubbornly clutched at goals in an attempt to gain power and fame. She was a monster of the worst vein humankind could offer corrupted with values that had been a mantra for humans since the first dawn had broken upon the first man huddled in his cave greed, fame, and power.

"Forgive me. I dislike watching television or reading the trashy tabloids that you evidently admire so greatly. Now if you would excuse me Chavez shall be home presently and I would like to great him at the door," Clarice dared not expect Anna to believe her, but in moment of desperation to protect herself and a lamb that now hunted her she tried to get out.

Clarice turned to leave but the click of a hammer being pulled back and a cartridge sliding into the barrel of a pistol stopped her in her tracks. She turned slowly around and met a barrel of a 22 Magnum staring her down and she froze.

"I'll offer you a deal. You can stay with your lover, but you will meet my demands first." Her voice said that it was not a bargain so much as a list of demands that must be met or else…

"What are your demands?"

"First you will pay me one million dollars immediately. I know you have it and then you will pay thirty thousand dollars a year for the rest of my life. In addition, you will kill my inept husband and make sure the crime raises a lot scandal. The police finding him baked into a pie would be sufficient; I want my face on the front page of every newspaper in a hundred mile radius. I spent years proving you were who you are and now I am going to enjoy the benefits that will come from slowly destroying your life."

Clarice had inched forward until her hand could reach inside the purse Anna had thoughtlessly left lying open with the metal handle of a pistol gleaming clearly against the bright lights. She kept an eye on the raving woman as she reached in a slowly drew out the weapon. It was comfortingly cold and heavy in her hand. Slowly she pulled the hammer back and pointed the barrel down towards Anna. Only then did the woman realize what had happened.

"Put that down or I'll shoot," Anna, whispered blanching pale and then with steel in her eyes she brought her weapon back up and pointed it at Clarice's heart. Her finger inched forward and stood poised to pull the trigger.

A single gunshot whispered in the room. The silencer on the barrel of the gun caused it to barely rumble, but to the members of the tableaux it was as loud as thunder screaming across the sky of a warm summer night as it moved out and a flash of fire spilt like lightening through the air. Gunpowder and smoke hung in the air and the twang of a freshly fired weapon mixed with the acidic smell of blood slowly being pumped out of a body with the last few beats of a stopping heart. A gun slid from a hand and clanged against the ground as a body slammed into the ground arms and legs splayed in a way that would never have been possible in life, but in the silence of death seemed natural and easy. A body moments that had moments ago been breathing and talking lay sprawled on the white rug that was slowly turning a dull pink as life blood oozes and congealed upon it. In the silence, the lambs screamed.

This probably seems a little strange, but it sets up the ending rather nicely. I hope. Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated.


	8. The Prince: End Justifies the Means

Disclaimer: Refer to start. Man these people are fun to toy with.

Without further ado, I present to you…

Hannibal Lecter froze when the thunder of the gun echoed throughout motionless the house. He sniffed the air delicately and detected a miniscule hint of gunpowder wafting through the normally crisp and uncontaminated air. Without any outward sign of worry or anticipation, he hung his hat in it appropriate place and walked down the hallway towards the sound of the gun. He cracked the door and looked inside while being vigilant about staying out of the line of sight of the occupants of the room.

Clarice stood with her hands held in the immobile in the position in which she had fired the gun, but her gun lay at the floor in her feet. Her eyes were wide and haunted as she stared at the slowly widening patch of red on the carpet near Anna's body. She shook rapidly as though trying to erase the memory of what she had done. Tears trailed down her face as the violent screams on the lambs reached their climax she opened her mouth to scream at the horror of what she had done but her voice was stillborn. She jumped when Lecter's hand picked up the gun at her feet and delicately wiped it clean with a rag he withdrew from his overcoat pocket and positioned it in Anna's hand and curled the dead woman's fingers around, as she would have fired it if she had committed the act herself.

"Clarice, we must depart immediately," his voice flowed silkily passed her ear as his hands supported her. She craved the warmth they offered even as she recoiled against them because she knew what they had done and could not face the atrocity of it.

"No, I can't," her voice wavered and she tried to struggle of his painful grasp, but he detained her tightly and his fingers dug into her shoulders causing tentacles of pain to shoot through her body. The harder she thrashed against him the more securely he grasped her until she gave a momentary lull in the struggle against him and her inner demons that haunted her.

"Yes, you can, and you must. Mr. Delgado will surly notice his wife is missing and the servants must have heard the gunshot and surely suspect something. If we stay here we will be arrested and I will be sent back to an empty cell awaiting my execution."

"I am not leaving. Even if I left with you, the police will find us before we leave the city. What is to gain by running a small number of minutes of liberation before spending the rest of my life in jail contemplating when my life took a nose dive and I threw everything that had been instilled in me since childhood and fled to live this life?"

"They will think it is a suicide for at least a few hours by the time they realize she was killed we will be free."

"I'll still be your prisoner."

"You have willing stayed this entire time. If you had truly desired to be liberated from me, you would have left long before now. I, however, will allow you remain behind to turn yourself in to the institution that betrayed you if you answer a solitary question for me."

"What?"

"Why did you shoot her? You swore to protect people yet you shoot her at point blank range. Surely you can clarify this for me I cannot grasp any possible reason that would justify you reacting to her in such a violent manner," his voice was mocking her even as he baited her.

"She threatened me," she retorted shortly and painfully obviously showing her lack of desire to disclose further details. He noticed her reluctance quickly and grasped at it easily dealing damage at will.

"How did she threaten you? Did she threaten to inform your Daddy what a bad girl you have been? He would be very disappointed in you after all her was an officer of the law also and then his darling little girl kills several people he would be rolling in his grave had he already not been removed from it. Pray continue with your explanation."

"She threatened to tell the police who we were unless we paid her off and killed her husband."

"She presented you with the perfect opportunity to escape from me, but instead of accepting her generous offering you shoot her. Why would you do this? Every time I speak to you, you demand freedom but when an opportunity is presented to you on a silver platter you turn it down. Help me understand this, Clarice."

"I don't know! Leave me alone," She struggled in his arms like a caged bird seeking her freedom and wings even if she killed herself in the process. Her fist slammed futilely against his chest but he gave no indication of the pain she was causing him.

"Stop acting so childish and answer my question. Why did you turn down her offer?" He spoke slowly as if to a frightened child but his words were backed with a layer of steel, cold and demanding. His hand stroked her hair in a calming motion.

"I did not want to go with her," the words came out brokenly as though her soul was breaking in two with the admission his was forcing incessantly from her. Once again, when she tried to break free, his arms held her tightly. "Let me go," she cried desperately.

"Not until you answer my question. Why did you not want to go with her?"

"Because if I went with her," she stopped and refused to continue until he tilted her face up to his and stared into her eyes. The blood red drew her in and forced her to continue. "I would go back to the United States and be turned over to the FBI. They would take my child from me and either lose him in the system of kill him. They would either lock me up for life or convince me that you forced me to do all of this."

"So you are saying I did not force you do all this when you have been with me."

"Yes…no…does it matter?" she yelled angrily trying to cover her confusion.

"Not at the moment. The more pressing matter is if you are going to come with me or not."

"I need more time."

"Unfortunately, time is not out ally and you need to make your choice now or I will leave you. If you choose to stay here, I promise I will never bother you or our child again. I will let you live the life you choose to."

"I…"

The child squirmed in her arms warm and content as he sought a comfortable position to sleep in. Red hair covered his head and thick red eyelashes framed his closed eyes and stood out starkly against his pale lightly freckled skin. Six perfect fingers were closed around his mother's thumb and the child breathed softly in his sleep.

Nurses and doctors rushed through the hallways and rooms raucous and deafening oblivious to the mother and child sleeping. As the mother slept on the child was lifted from her arms and carried to the window. Hannibal Lecter cradled his son awkwardly against him. His discomfort showed itself in the rough and uneasy way he walked holding the infant. The baby opened his eyes and screwed up his faced about to cry. His red eyes began to fill with tears.

"Do not start that. It would be a misfortune to wake your mother again," he muttered as he awkwardly patted the infant and tried to shush him but to no avail he sent up a thin wail and in shock, he was almost dropped by his father, which only served to make him cry harder.

"Give him to me," Clarice's voice was quiet but firm almost an order.

"I can manage. I told you having him in a hospital was an atrocious idea. I could have done as well at home and I have almost got him quieted down again" it seemed that the infant to spite him sent up an even louder howl. Regretfully the child was returned to his mother.

"Have you chosen a name?"

"Yes."

"What did you decide upon?" she inquired as she easily put the infant back to sleep.

"Machiavelli Devante."

"The Machiavelli I'm thinking of?"

"Is there any other?"

"No, I suppose the name fits him quite well."

With the completing of this story, I would like to think everyone who was reviewed this story and all the people that have read it. Any reviews and suggestions about what can be done to improve further stories are appreciated. Even flames are nice because come winter gas is expensive and flames can be used to heat a house very cheaply.

Alan


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